


Light Weight

by 19agbrown



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Bar Room Brawl, Drunk Merlin (Merlin), Execution (mention), amused Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:09:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27320245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/19agbrown/pseuds/19agbrown
Summary: Gwaine convinces Merlin to go to the Tavern with him, which proves to be a very bad idea when a drunk Merlin finds his way to Arthur's chambers.
Relationships: Gwaine & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 129





	Light Weight

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first work I've ever done in this fandom. Please let me know if I did a good job with it. 
> 
> I'm new to the Merlin fandom. I literally just watched the series last week, because I wanted to understand the gif sets I was seeing on Tumblr. However, I happen to now love it, and have joined the rest of the fandom in optimistically waiting for a season 6. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I literally just discovered this show. How would that be the case if I wrote it?

** Start: **

Merlin knew it was a bad idea. Sure, Gaius had told Arthur he was in the Tavern often enough that it was probably a good idea for him to actually spend some time there, but he knew that going with Gwaine had been a mistake as soon as he started trying to keep up with the drunken knight.

Merlin knew his limitations. He knew that he could never hold much alcohol, because he simply didn’t drink it often enough to have a high tolerance for it. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to drink. It would be nice to let his rigid control slip for a bit. But that was the problem.

His position in Camelot was very precarious. One slip of the tongue while drunk could see him burnt at the stake the following morning. Which was why Merlin never touched the stuff if he could help it.

But when Gwaine had invited him along, he simply couldn’t come up with a believable enough excuse to get out of going.

And that’s how it came to be that Emrys, the most powerful warlock to ever live, was being literally tossed across the barroom.

Gwaine, as he was prone to do, had started a bar fight. Typically, this wouldn’t be a problem for Merlin. He could normally simply show up after the fact to take his friend home and pay the barkeep for any damages the knight had caused.

But this time, Merlin had been present when the fight began. Not only that, but he had already revealed himself to be Gwaine’s ally by arriving and drinking with him, so when Gwaine offended the merchant from Nemeth, it was Merlin that the merchant’s friends targeted, not Gwaine.

Hence why Merlin was flying across the barroom.

Moments later, Merlin found himself being bodily thrown from the tavern by an angry barkeep, Gwaine and the merchant’s group landing next to him on the cold cobblestone street in the Lower Town.

Merlin unsteadily regained his feet, and swayed on the spot while he waited on Gwaine to do the same, only to shake his head in exasperation when his friend let out a loud yawn and stretched out contentedly on the cobblestones to sleep.

Had Merlin been sober, perhaps he would have hauled Gwaine up and walked him home. He had done so several times before. But as drunk as he was right now, Merlin truly didn’t see an issue with leaving Gwaine to sleep in the middle of the street.

So, that’s exactly what he did. Without sparing a second thought, Merlin staggered away down the dark street towards the Citadel of Camelot.

&*

Arthur Pendragon wasn’t normally one for staying up late. Sure, he could go days without sleep if need be, but he normally didn’t have to. Tonight, however, the young king was still awake, pouring over reports on Morgana’s latest movements, and trying to reconcile his hateful sister with the kind woman he had once known.

Guinevere would usually have made him leave those depressing documents alone and go to bed hours ago, but she was on a diplomatic mission to Mercia and would be gone for the next week at least. During that time, Arthur fully intended to brood and sulk, since his lovely wife wasn’t there to scold him for such nonsense.

However, his brooding was interrupted when his door slammed open.

Arthur jumped to his feet and drew his sword. He could use a nice fight to distract him.

Arthur lowered his sword in slight disappointment when he recognized the stumbling figure as his manservant.

“Merlin?” He asked slightly shocked. “What are you doing here at this hour?”

Merlin barely spared him a glance as he staggered towards Arthur’s bed, and flopped down across it.

To say Arthur was surprised by such behavior was an understatement. He couldn’t remember Merlin ever sitting on his bed, let alone sprawling across it like he was now.

Arthur slowly approached his bed, and nudged Merlin. “Hey. That’s my bed you’re on.”

Merlin grumbled something, and clumsily, kicked off his boots.

Arthur frowned. “Are you… drunk?”

Merlin looked up and squinted in confusion. “Arthur? What are you doing in my room?” Merlin slurred.

Arthur’s eyebrows rose sharply. “Your room?”

Merlin nodded. “Yes, my room. Didn’t you know?”

Arthur’s lips twitched. “No, actually, I didn’t.”

Merlin’s head dropped back to the bed. “You may want to lay off the ale if you can’t even tell what room you’re in.” Merlin slurred.

A small smile formed on Arthur’s lips. “Oh yeah?”

Merlin nodded. “If you’re this drunk, you may have a drinking problem. We should talk about that when there goes back to being only one of you.” He slurred.

Arthur almost laughed at that. “Hm. You may have a point.”

Merlin sighed in a put-upon manner. “If you plan on staying, put out the candles. I’m tired.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “And just where would I sleep?”

Merlin groaned and turned so that he was laying on the bed correctly instead of across it. “There’s enough room here.” He slurred, gesturing at the empty side of the bed.

Arthur actually did laugh that time. “How many drinks have you had, anyway?”

Merlin thought for a moment, and it actually looked like hard work. “3. Maybe 4.”

Arthur looked surprised. “You only had 3 or 4 drinks, and you’re this bad?”

Merlin shrugged. “S’not like I drink that often. I’m a light weight.”

Arthur looked incredulous. “What do you mean you don’t drink that often? You spend half your time in the Tavern.”

A thought tried valiantly to push through the fog in Merlin’s mind, telling him not to keep talking, but Merlin didn’t know why he should listen to it. “I do not. Gaius is just terrible at coming up with cover stories.”

“Oh really?” Arthur asked, sounding curious as to what Merlin could possibly need a cover story for.

Merlin hummed sleepily. “Never count on Gaius if you need a believable cover story on short notice.”

“Must be where you learned it.” Arthur teased.

Merlin yawned and snuggled into Arthur’s pillow. “Like I said, if you’re staying, put out the candles.”

Arthur exhaled a loud breath as he contemplated whether or not it was worth the effort of moving Merlin all of the way to Gaius’ chambers, before going around his room and extinguishing all of his many candles.

He then turned back towards his bed and took off his belt before carefully climbing into his bed on Guinevere’s side, since Merlin was on his.

“Night Arthur.” Merlin muttered as his eyelids drooped shut.

Arthur smiled and shook his head in fond exasperation before he responded. “Goodnight, Idiot.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said, I'm new to the fandom. And this is the first Merlin fan fic I've ever written. PLEASE let me know how I did, because I'm very nervous about it. :)


End file.
